


A Trashy Love Story

by PeneighDzredfohl



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Timeline What Timeline, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 23:06:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18679129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeneighDzredfohl/pseuds/PeneighDzredfohl
Summary: How Bilbo and Thorin met ( at least one of the bazillion ways at any rate) due to the garbage





	A Trashy Love Story

**Author's Note:**

> The trigger warning is for an abandoned baby, but everything works out. I only do HEA's and Fluff.
> 
> I got this story from a prompt question on Reddit. A person threw out the question to garbage collectors, "What is the strangest thing that you've ever had happen or found, while on your route?"
> 
> A teen answered that it was how his mom had met his dad. His dad was the driver and his mom went out every pick-up day at the last second to put more trash in to be able to ogle the driver. The guy in the back finally asked her what's up, she told him about her dad's threat to lock her out until she got a date. He hollered to the driver and it was wedding bells not too long after.  
> I had to do this as a Bagginshield with Bilbo as the rough and tumble driver, and Thorin the sappy swooning doof (I love when he's a sappy swooning doof). I added a bit more to the story to give it a better more fulfilling kind of HEA.

Thorin-

It had indeed been a long day.

But no day, no matter how long, how crazy, how many soccer, football, ballet, swimming, and some other lessons he forgot; along with homework and chores, did it ever feel like it wasn't worth every moment they had with each other and their kids (and the bloody cat that refused to die, no matter how hard Thorin begged it to) doing crazy things together.

Dinner was a wonderful time. Bilbo laid down the law when they agreed that Frodo could have his first smartphone, that no electronics during family time was an indisputable rule. If you even came to the table or family group with one, it went into the "Basket of Battery Death". Once it died, you could have it back…or three days, whichever was first.

It was a lot of talking and eating and goofing around, but it wasn't chaos. It was the joyful time of a family bonding and loving and being playful. Bilbo could not handle chaos on any level. Insanity was a whole nother matter, Biblo thrived on his paternal instincts of being the calm during the storm.

* * *

 Bilbo-

"Reily, where _is_ your other shoe sweetheart? And why do you have four socks on...never mind, go to the van!  Merrick how in the name of Mahal did you get your hair like that?!" 

"Kili said if I use raw eggs it will do this, and look...IT DID, isn't it cool?!" 

"Not when it turns to scrambled eggs in your hair with this heat."

"Really, I'll get scrambled eggs too? Kili is sooo cool!!

"Why are there still 6 lunch bags on the table?" Bilbo shouted in a patient sing-song voice.

All this was his specialty. It would have had Thorin in tears in less than a minute.

Thorin could handle the chaos of squabbling, overhyped, and by far way too mischievous kids, by corraling them to the backyard and if nothing else, at least bring it to a chaotic good versus chaotic neutral where everything just went to pot. That was when he had to use "His Voice." It didn't need to be used often, but when it did, instant calm.

Bilbo loved to take the insanity that was this thing called daily life and turn it into order and stability. Thorin got it that kids were all insane. He'd babysat Fili and Kili often enough to figure that out.  
They were each other's yin and yang. A perfect balance for a happy marriage.

* * *

 

Thorin really was a big old softie when it came to the kids. Perhaps because he had been the one working at the adoption agency that oversaw all adoptions in the county.

He and Bilbo had been married two years and had Fili and Kili over all the time.

He loved being a cool uncle.

But whenever the boys were over, Bilbo, while all smiles and laughter, had a certain tightness around his eyes. When Thorin finally got the courage up to ask him what was wrong, Bilbo just broke down in a heap of tears and histrionics that he wanted a baby or three or four or maybe more. Bilbo knew Thorin worked for the government, he just didn't know what part. Thorin said he did not like to bring his work home.

Well, it didn't take long before Thorin was bringing his work, by the name of Frodo Baggins-Oakes, home in a little nip and nap with his proud (and more than likely over baby crazy) Pappa Bilbo watching over him. Next came Molly, then Emmaline. Bilbo nearly lost his mind when Thorin called and said Bilbo had two seconds to say yes to red-headed triplet boys (age 2). Thorin had to whip the phone away from his ear as the entire office heard shrieks of joy saying yes repeatedly until Thorin (while typing like a madman to get the information in, in time) had him down to a dull roar of laughing and crying.

Six seemed like a perfect number to Thorin. He was beginning to see some silver and gray at his temples with the children growing older and more insane.  
They practically had a revolving door at the ER with broken bones, nostrils and ears stuffed with anything that would fit in them but not come back out. Mysterious tummy troubles that syrup of Ipecac seemed to glean confessions, and the plaintive question of, ‘Why in Mahal's name did you eat that?!?!' As well as the usual raging fevers at 2 am, never at 6 pm at night, no always at 2 am.

It was a miracle the staff saw what little crazies they were when the whole horde came trooping in, and totally got why so and so has broken this, that, or the other thing…again! (and CPS was not called in).

But it was when a preemie newborn boy was brought to the hospital after being found outside in the hot sun in a paper bag. And then it was discovered that several more small children and an infant (three girls that were siblings to the newborn boy) were in severe neglect, that Thorin crumbled, and four more joined the Baggins-Oakes family.

Thorin promptly retired!

~~*~~

So, the nighttime routine of baths, jammies, snack, and a story became a special, if not ludicrous time, to wrangle 10 children into a relaxed enough state to actually fall asleep.  
It was on one such night when no one could agree on a story, and the natives were getting restless, that Frodo begged Thorin to tell the story of how he and Pappa Bilbo had met. That was one story that never got old and was never told often enough.  
Thorin was always embarrassed by it, but still and yet, it was how he had found his one true love, his soulmate. So even though his ears were always red, he would tell the story with gusto.

* * *

~~several years earlier~~

 

Bilbo-

Bilbo had only been on the new route for about three months. A lovely spring had turned into an oppressive summer, which made collecting garbage a rather odiferous business if they were later than 11 am for any reason. On a good day they could finish the whole route, if they started at 4 am, by 10 am. It was cooler, and with a light breeze, it made the humidity less oppressive. Bilbo was a Yankee through and through. He had the thick hot blood of a Yankee. So the southern heat, in which southerners with their watery thin cold blood thought was pleasant, had him sweating like a racehorse. But Bilbo had no real regrets moving south of the Mason-Dixon line.

Bilbo had moved a bit further south as the winters in the North were simply becoming more depressing every year. His parents had moved down a few years earlier and encouraged him to follow. He was in a good stable job at the waste collection plant with the possibility of a promotion. He wasn't sure.

He could visit his mom and dad on a long weekend if he drove straight through, and holidays would be different with no snow. His first Christmas with them was brilliant. They totally were trying to sell him on moving. While watching the weather back home and the 5 feet of snow that was piling up in the blizzard with more lake effect in a few days, temps in the negative digits, before the windchill!!

It was at that moment he could see himself in 7 layers of clothes, sweating like crazy as he tried to keep ahead of the shoveling. One less layer and he froze. Nope, there was no going back.

First thing in the morning he sent a letter of resignation by email to his company asking for a recommendation and by noon he had been hired sight unseen at the Stone Mountain Refuse and Disposal Corp. It was 90% residential with a few small mom and pop type places for variety.

His parents put him up for a few weeks as he searched for the perfect home. Cat-friendly was a must. Button Chop (with a B, not an M), his tabby needed space inside as well as a nice catrium added for her to go out and still be safe, but not decimate the local songbird population. Who knew she had a killer streak in her?!

His parent's agent was terrific and what had taken him months up north to do, here was done in two weeks! He had the keys (promptly changing all the locks-you just never know) and was ready to hide the most hideous 1960's-70's era paint and wallpaper not to mention the green shag carpet and the orange and the blue and he thought it was magenta but by then he felt ill from all the psychedelic colors and patterns.

This was going to require help! He had gutted and redone his place up north, and he could do it again. But some of the zoning laws and ordinances were different, so he had to research all that first. Once that was out of the way, the gang at the disposal company were more than glad to help (Bilbo made the most amazing brats, and the beer was free flowing -it did cause a few odd paint jobs, but nothing that couldn't be quickly fixed when sober). It had taken longer than he had expected simply because there was so much to do and they all worked those crazy hours.

It really was more house than he needed at over 3,000 square feet, but the price was unbelievable. Not to mention the inspector said it was in excellent condition considering its age and the southern weather. So he roamed an echoing house and felt a bit out of sorts at times.

**~~*~~**

Thorin-

Thorin was an early riser, always had been. Something about the fresh air, the newness of the day and a day that was full of potential.

Today was Monday, trash day. For the first time in his entire life, he was actually looking forward to Mondays!  
It had all started when he was up before the sun, contemplating…well not much in particular as he was too busy ogling the new garbage collector. He was a new driver, and why Thorin took any interest in the garbage collection was merely beyond him other than it was a tad intriguing how they worked as a team and were so efficient.

Outstanding quality in a business like that.

The new driver was not really what Thorin would call handsome, but more like adorable. With the binoculars ( he blamed it on poor eyesight, not actual stalkerish ogling because that would be creepy. And he was not a creepy stalkerish ogling kind of guy…usually) he was able to see the new driver had a round, almost babyface with no facial hair.  
Thorin sported a short beard in the latest trending style. He had grown his hair out so it was now halfway down his shoulders (it was a bet with his mother, and he would be dragon bait before he'd let her win).

He took after his father with his black hair that now at this length was wavy and had become annoying getting in his face all the time, so he added two braids, one on either side of his temples to keep it out of his face.

The new driver had the most gorgeous shoulder length honey brown hair in a riot of curls that make Thorin's fingers twitch to run through them. He was able to once get a good look at the driver's eyes and see they were a warm amber color. He was just everything Thorin found physically attractive in a man.

He wanted to get to know him personally, but how does one converse with the garbage man on pick up day? So, he just waited impatiently every Monday for the truck and its driver to stop in front of the house. Then a bag of trash he had stashed so no one else would take it out, was grabbed and he'd rush out with only seconds to spare, just to get a good look at the driver, to hold him over until the following Monday. Rinse and repeat.

This had been going on for some time, and unbeknownst to Thorin, his father was curious what had his eldest son's undived attention every Monday. Once Thrain figured it out, he was rather frustrated with Thorin. His son had always been a go-getter, nothing stopped him once he had his mind set, but this was like a pining school girl instead of a man of 28 years. Finally, he'd had enough. It was almost pathetic as his son made a mad dash to the garbage bin as the truck was pulling up. He was fooling no one, he could tell the other men on the truck knew what Thorin was doing.

Nope, this could not go on any longer. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, had to find the courage to take action, real action. If that meant Thrain had to play a little dirty pool, well then, so be it. Either it would all work out, and Thorin would be blissfully happy, or it would merely come to an end, and Thorin wouldn't seem quite so pathetic mooning over someone he didn't even know.

That morning Thorin has chosen some rather fetching blue, white and, black checkered sleep pants and an old faded tank top that no one knew what was on it anymore. Then as he threw on his fluffy white spa robe and struggled to slide into his equally fuzzy granny slippers, Thrain stopped him, nearly scaring the snot out of poor Thorin who had no idea he had an audience.

"What's up, Dad?" Thorin groaned inwardly as his voice actually squeaked instead of his usual baritone.

"Son, I love you, but I have ulterior motives for what I am about to do. I am locking you out of the house until you get that man's phone number or a date! One more week of this and they may stop our services. Plus, you look like a goofball in that bathrobe and slippers."

Thorin was stunned, then actually blushed beet red to the roots of his hair that he had not only been caught but obviously his dad was totally on to what Thorin had been doing.  
Thorin suddenly heard the truck, looked at his dad, saw the steel in his eyes, and tied his robe closed. As he fussed to get his slippers on in his haste to get out there in time, his father handed him a bag of trash.

"What's this for?"

"So you have something to take out there."

"But…"

"Son, get your arse out there, or you will miss your chance, and I don't think you want to sleep outside for a week."

"Seriously, Dad?!"

"Seriously, Son!"

Thorin grabbed the bag his father was holding then sped out the door, grabbing the second bag and in a rush tried to get both bags in at once. Only Murphy's Law would have it that the bag did, in fact, catch on the bin and rip open, spilling all the contents out! At least it was mostly paperwork in the one that opened. His dad's bag was more substantial and smelled nasty.  
He was so flustered he didn't realize the one bald tattooed back rider, was kneeling next to him.

"Kinna I help ya with that spill there lad? Ya seem a wee bit out of sorts this morning. Usually, ya have it down to a science." The tattooed man grinned at Thorin, and now Thorin knew that everyone knew. He was dying of embarrassment.

"Denna let it get ya in a lather. How about I help ya gather this up and then I can holler for Bilbo. He is the one yeh got yer eyes set on inn't he?"

For a moment Thorin was simply lost in the name, ‘Bilbo,' even his name was adorable and perfect.

"I, ah, well, you have me on the spot, and so much for my ruse and seemingly innocent ogling," He laughed with a massive blush following it, "I would really be grateful to at least meet him. Although if I don't get his number or make a date, my Father is refusing to let me back in the house until I do."

Dwalin laughed at the thought of a father going to such lengths. He just shook his head and bellowed to Bilbo in such a way that it seemed imperative he got his tiny little bubble butt back there to put this poor man out of his misery.

"Name's Dwalin by the way." He took off his glove, reached out his hand and was pleased that the man just took it and shook, not even hesitating to think what nasty things might be on his hands.

"Thorin, Thorin Oakes. A pleasure to meet you."

"Pleasures all mine, and I want an invitation to the wedding, ya ken?"

Thorin wasn't sure if his face was purple or not, but it was certainly on fire!

When Bilbo came around, he wore a red, black, and white flannel shirt (yes, I know I wrote it was hot) with the sleeves cut off and perhaps an oak tree tattoo on his upper arm by his shoulder. The fluorescent helmets they have to wear, really dirty worn out jeans, split at the knees, and steel-toed boots, half laced. While still looking utterly adorable, he did look rather put out, making Thorin a hundred time more nervous-er than he already was…(was nervous-er even a word? Well, it was now it was because that is precisely how he felt).

When Bilbo came up to them, Thorin realized that Bilbo was a good head shorter than him, and though he had a softness to him, it was Thorin's "type."

"What _is_ the problem, Dwalin?" he said as pleasantly as he could

Thorin, a grown man, 6 foot 3 inches, 200 pounds, well built, brave as a bull, rather intimidating to most…actually swooned when he heard the sweet, dulcet tones of Bilbo's voice. Perfection!

Dwalin saved face for him, but that was as far as his good luck went for the moment. He was all tongue tied, his guts were in knots and full of butterflies, and he forgot how to think. Nothing but derpiness came out of his mouth.

Then the moment of truth was there. Bilbo had asked him if he had a special someone in his life. The most humiliating confession turned out to be the start of a whole new life for him. Who knew?!

It only got more embarrassing when his entire family was on the porch, whooping and whistling after Thorin had given Bilbo a quick hug.

In a voice rocked with mortification, Thorin said: "Meet my family, Bilbo."

**~~*~~**

Bilbo-

Bilbo was grousing one morning as he warmed up the truck for his route. Everything that could go wrong that morning did, and when Bofur, one of the single most cheerful men he had ever met in his life (southern hospitality he called it) climbed in while Dwalin and Ori belted in the back and hung on. Bilbo tried to seem calm, cool and collected. He was a respectable man after all.

"What's eating at yer craw this morning Bilbo? Yer carrying on worse than my wife, and she's like 50 months pregnant! The consarnit A/C went out last night. I've never been a church goin' man, but I was sure talking to the Almighty to save me until the repair guy got there. Again, thanks be to blessed Mahal for 24-hour service, or I would have been a dead man. Have you ever been around a pregnant woman on the verge of heatstroke, who is overdue to give birth?"

"Ah, no. Can't really say that I have, nor do I think I ever will. I'm an only child, and the person I would prefer to marry would make front page news if he gave birth!

Bofur stared at him a full five seconds, then busted up with the loudest belly laugh (especially in the cab of the truck) and startled Bilbo. "Ya, ride on the other ponies do ya? Not a problem with any of us, ain't that right Dwalin," He bellowed to be heard all the way outside the truck. How Dwalin had heard him was beyond Bilbo, but the reply had him at ease.

"Nope! Ori is my only sunshine, and I like to see him where the sun don't shine!" Dwalin hollered back. Making Bilbo laugh with relief that such comradery was present.

As Bilbo took the turn onto Lonely Mountain Road, a very exclusive neighborhood with well-manicured lawns, and splendid homes. Most rational folk would still be in bed at five in the morning, but as he peered ahead, he tried to see if the same guy was yet again bringing his garbage out.

It miffed Bilbo that every week the same house, the same guy, was rushing out at the last second possible to add more trash. Bofur had casually mentioned this was all something new to him. This house, in particular, took great pride in following the exact rules on all disposal. Scrap metal and wood, furniture and such. They called ahead, so the crew knew what to expect, and to bring the "Crusher."

Aaaaand………..there he was rushing out in his robe and slippers with two hands full of trash, and trying to get them both in, in one shot. Bilbo groaned when one bag caught the corner of the trash bin and ripped, spilling the contents onto the driveway.

"Don't Worry Bilbo, Dwalin's got this." Bofur soothed

It was taking longer than it should to clean up and be on their way. What was Dwalin doing? Having coffee with the man? He tapped his thumb impatiently on the steering wheel and craned his neck to see out the side view mirror; nothing.

Bilbo literally bashed his head (stupid to take the darn helmet off but the day was already warming up) on the roof of the cab and saw stars for a moment when Dwalin, boomed out in a voice like thunder, "Bilbo, we need ya back here, ASAP, pronto, like right now!"

What on earth could be the problem?

When he got back there, he was all scrunched faced and breathing hard.

"What _is_ the problem, Dwalin?"

"I, ah, well, uh, I pulled a muscle while bending over to help this wonderful, fine, upstanding *drop dead gorgeous, don't tell Ori*…*Ori, won't tell Dwalin he just saw him ogling another man if Dwalin lets Bilbo talk to the hunk of man meat*."

Bilbo was sputtering at this point. ‘wonderful, fine, upstanding, drop dead gorgeous hunk of man meat?!?!?' In all the worl…………….. Bilbo looked up... " _Hello_ , sir. How may I service you? No! I mean how may I be OF service to you. Aghag! Let me try that one more time, Bilbo Baggins, at your service."

"Thorin Oakes, at yours."

Now, what.....................................................?

"And how may I help you?"

"Um, the tattooed gentleman was trying to hook the garbage bin and seemed to have strained his back. I offered to do it for him, but he said company policy forbade it. Insurance and such. So, I'm not sure what to do. You can't possibly lift that up to the hook; or can you?"

While Bilbo should be insulted by such a comment, he actually found it kind of cute coming from Thorin. A grown man, blushing like a school girl and acting as if he were twitterpated or something…………!!!

Well, if Thorin wanted a show, he was going to get one.

With great strength and from much practice, he deftly lifted the bin and with only one hand latched the winch hook to the bin. Very nicely done he congratulated himself, now if only Thorin liked the show.

"You're stronger than you look!" He said, then promptly facepalmed himself and tried to correct the gaffe.

Bilbo only laughed, "I'm an only child, and my parents are older, so when they had me, I got the brunt of the work. By the time I was 10, I was lifting almost as much as this bin and helping my mother with her gardens. So I may look small, but I pack a lot of muscle. You, on the other hand, look like you work out three times a day."

Thorin blushed profusely as he explained, "No, I mostly sit at a desk all day with my full-time job. I guess genetics play the lead role in my looks. I help on the side with my family's building business. Me and my brother and my dad. My Grandad is the owner and just tells us what to do. He says he's done his time, now is the time for us young whippersnappers."

That made Bilbo laugh as he thought of his father saying nearly the same thing to Bilbo when he would complain.

"My sister is the secretary, and my mom is the mule skinner to keep us on our toes. My Granmom stays home and spends all day cooking for us. She feels we are all overworked and underfed."

"So, you still live at home?" Bilbo's turn to facepalm.

Thorin snorted a laugh, "Makes sense. I earn my room and board, mom would miss us kids if we left, she keeps saying she's not ready to be an empty nester. So, my sister, her husband, and two boys have a comfy cottage on our property. My brother and his wife have a small place too, back in the north forty.

"Do, ah, you, um, have a cottage with, um, someone?"

Thorin blushed and blurted out, "No! I, uh, No… it's just that I am, um, just kind of, sort of, waiting for the perfect guy to notice me. Ya know?"

Bilbo broke out into a massive grin as all these shenanigans fell into place and made sense now.

"Would you know the perfect guy if you saw him?"

"I already have," Thorin says with his heart in his gray-blue eyes.

"Hmmm, so if the perfect guy were to ask you to dinner, you'd say yes?"

"Oh, yes, I'd say yes!"

"Well then, seeing as it is me you're talking to, and Bofur has a bazillion kids with another one due any second now, Dwalin and Ori * who are an item* would kill me if I did not ask, ‘Would you let me pick you up and join me for dinner at my place. I'm a bit of a dab hand in the kitchen and would love to show off, erm, have you as my guest!" He let out a huge breath and giggled, then blushed for giggling. What grown man giggles?

"I am supposed to tell you, and I am quoting my dad here, so these are not my words… ‘Son, I love you, but I have ulterior motives for what I am about to do. I am locking you out of the house until you get that man's phone number or a date! One more week of this and they may stop our services. Plus, you look like a goofball in a bathrobe and slippers.' So here I am locked out of my own home."

"But I just asked you out?"

"But my dad probably couldn't hear you."

"Son, your whole family heard you!"

Both Bilbo and Thorin turn to see a whole group smiling at them, and then they all burst into applause along with a few wolf whistles from the younger boys. "Way to go Uncle Thorin!"

"Oh, sweet Mahal, families, ya love ‘em to death…literally sometimes."

Bilbo laughed so hard, he could hardly breathe. He shouted to the group, "This will be one for the story books!"

All of the family gave him a thumbs up as Thorin gave him a quick hug.

Thorin's voice sounded so mortified as he said, "Meet my family Bilbo."

 

~~*~~

And so here we are kids! Your Pappa, while not quite the prince charming rescuing the princess from the evil dragon, did save your Daddy from a life of loneliness and misery. He has made me so happy to be my husband and me, his.  Then all you little love nuggets started to join the family and here we are. Retelling a tale as old as time, of how two people fell in love and spread that love with the children they adore. 

Jovan (eight-year-old middle red headed triplet) blurted out in joy, "And all the aunties and uncles and grans and gramps to spoil us with sweets and games and fun and Fili and Kili to show us "the ropes", on how to be fun kids and great grandad to take us fishing  (even if we do always fall in) and Uncle Frerin to take us on the Camo Mule out back and drive real fast and bumps us all over and Auntie Meagan makes the best cookies next to grandmother and Uncle Vili made us the tree fort with the swings and zip line and.......*takes a huge breath* then we all go into the pool with him and he throws us in and then Pa-pa and Grammy Baggins take us to the flea market and buy us SO-MUCH-STUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"JoJo," Bilbo chuckled in indulgence to his son's view on family, " Yes, we all have a wonderfully huge family...."

"Pappa!"

"Yes, Emmaline?"

"Auntie Meagan said it was a secret and I wasn't supposed to tell anyone that she has two babies in her tummy because of us kids making her so happy she could have babies with Uncle Frerin...Wait...Oops!  I shouldnta said that, I definitely shouldnta said that!"

Thorin and Bilbo could no longer keep a straight face as she realized the mistake, and looked so crestfallen.  

"Well, then," Thorin said," How about we all keep it a secret?  Then Auntie Meagan can tell us ALL when she's ready, hmm?"

A loud resounding "YAY", went through the room as Bilbo and Thorin began to herd the children to their rooms.

A hug and a kiss were lovingly given and received by all for their Pappa and Daddy.

As Thorin and Bilbo headed to bed, they could hear the pitter patter of footie jammies as they all ran to Frodo's room for a long talk into the night, along with more than enough giggles to make Bilbo turn on the fan. Frodo, Molly, and Emmaline could handle the littles.

He and Thorin needed some sleep!

**Author's Note:**

> Whad'ja think? Here is a story that was on a facebook page of an m/m and mpreg author. It is a lot like my story. 
> 
> https://www.goodmorningamerica.com/family/story/dads-adopt-siblings-spent-years-foster-care-63348743


End file.
